I’ve never seen him scared.
Ivan walks around me then stands in front, leaning against the desk. I look up and try to see any sliver of myself or Jane in him. He could be lying, I guess.
Then it’s like everything starts to sharpen. Katya. She’s my sister. And Aiden’s sister. The only thing keeping me from losing my mind completely is knowing that Ivan isn’t Aiden’s father. We’re not blood related, thank fuck.
Still, there’s Katya.
A little girl in this dangerous world.
Jane and I—fuck. Jane. She’s going to lose her mind.
We have a sister and a brother.
Where is Koda anyway?
Arms folded, Ivan glowers down at me, smug as shit. “Well.” He throws his arms out with a sick smile. “It’s a boy.” He laughs darkly then walks around the desk and drops down into his chair. “I’ve always wondered how she did it. How did she run away from me? She always had so much fire in her. It’s a pity she’s not alive for this.”
My jaw tightens. “What do you even want with me? You have the elephant, so who fucking cares. I have nothing to do with you.”
He leans forward. “Now that’s not true. You’re my son.”
“What the fuck am I going to do? I’m not a killer. I don’t know about any of this shit.”
“That’s okay. You will learn.” He shrugs. “Once I get rid of Aiden, I’ll need new help anyway. That boy has always been more trouble than he’s worth.”
“Are you going to kill him?” My heart jumps into my throat.
“Not yet.” He places the statue on the table.
“Who cares about the elephant? It’s an ugly fucking statue.”
He shakes his head. “It’s a safe.”
“What are you talking about?”
He places his hand along the back watching me with his unnerving dark eyes. There’s nothing there behind them. This is it. I’m going to die here.
The door behind me crashes open.
A giant man in a pink crop top and sweatpants that look two sizes too small bursts into the room.
“Who the fuck is this?” Ivan shouts then glares my way.
“I don’t fucking know!” I look back at the giant man. His long hair is pulled up in a bun. He’s ginormous. The shirt he’s wearing is stretched across his chest, and are those flip flops? “He’s not with you?” Who the hell is this?
The large man looks between us. “I’m here for Simon.”
“There’s no Simon here.” Ivan’s eyes harden. I think his jaw is going to snap. “You have the wrong house.”
“Fuck, maybe that’s the wrong name. Seymour? Samuel? Steven?”
Ivan’s brow cocks. “Sawyer?”
The large man snaps his fingers. “Yes!” He grabs for something in his pocket and takes out a pad of paper and a pen, writing, “Find Sawyer.Done.Rescue Sawyer...” He nods at me, smiling. “In progress.Take Noah on a date and make sweet love to him all night long.To be determined.”He tucks the notebook back in the pocket of those tight sweats.
The men from the bakery step in, their guns at their sides, unbothered by this mountain of a man.
“What the hell are you doing!? Kill him.” The one without an eye looks at the man with the beard—Dominic, I think.
